


From Corpse to the Ashes

by Antagonist



Series: Sweet Angst Party [1]
Category: Sweeney Todd (2007)
Genre: Angst, Gen, second person written, spoiler - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antagonist/pseuds/Antagonist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All he needed was time to think. But there was not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Corpse to the Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fan work ever in here, please go easy on me ~ TTATT  
> When I watched this movie I felt like writing this...I loved Benjamin and Lucy I so much that I almost cried at the last scene...

Steps steps steps.  
Steps she hears, from his private atelier to her own, downstairs.  
Measured, rythmed and heavy. No one is in there, other than him, she thinks. She is in love with a beautiful insane barber. A murderer, she never dares to call him so, because he is not. He is not she thinks, he is beautiful and perfect, she loves him and his wish of revenge and avenge. She loves his dedication to his own purpose, because she can help, she is helping him, she thinks. Once he will be done with his revenge he will be hers, she thinks, she believes, she trusts, she dreams, she hopes.

If only you could see how far you are from his heart, and even further you are from his mind, in this moment. Even the lies you said to pull him close didn't work. He is not close to you. He's closed.

In his mind, he is thinking of Joenna, because thinking of Lucy has become unbearable. But he does. Even if the pain is heart wretching, even if tears he wants to shed from his eyes are dark red and sharp, tearing him from the inside.

Did you feel like this too, dearest Lucy? When your Benjamin wasn't going to come home to you any time soon, when that ugly perverted thing watched you every day from your window. You held tight your child for that warmness, gone. Holding a part of his own flesh and blood, and this somehow eases the pain. You were not alone, you thought, for both of you. Both, because he was. Nothing to hold tight, nothing to feel warmness from. Ah, if only there would be a way to make you know that the only thing he can feel warmness from, now, is blood. He whored himself with the blood of many, wearing it on his face and on his clothes. Only yours didn't touch him, not even when you died by his hands. Oh you were so happy, didn't you know that broken man? Yes you did, _yes you did._ Years after years longing for each other's touch or bare face between countless crowds. Even when you gave up to poison and insanity, a part of your soul still waited for Benjamin to come back _to save you._ And it happened. He saved you from the constant hell which surrounds you every day, every where. But not in the way tou excpected. What kind of irony is this, eh? Either Fate is the master of black humor or Death being too kind to grant both of you one last meeting before tearing you apart - what a shameful waste, though -.  
If only he would have look at you just a bit longer-

Benjamin Barker is raped by memories and revenge, like no one has ever been. From time to time, he dreams so hard of meeting her by chance, by luck, by hope that Mrs Lovett is wrong, he can see her open the door of his atelier, arms outstreched waiting for him, and Barker dances with his mindmade gost.  
She smiles at Benjamin, but her warmness doesn't reach him. It's just some relieve from the constantly biting grief. And he steps closer, comes to her, comes to her because he never did in the last fifteen years, locked overseas in a God's forgotten prison. And each and every time is magic, for a while. He holds his wife, but doesn't _feel_ She never seems bothered by the blood he often leaves on her immaculated clothes. That is because she is a memory.  
There is always a certain balance between memories and revenge. Even if the two share brotherly blood, they never melt. Because memories comes with the loved and revenge comes with the hated. And he leans in the sweet and brief relieve of memories, step after atep, after step.  
Steps he makes, in his private atelier, in his private memories. And sings of stolen love, of Joenna and of revenge, but when he meets himself on the broken and scattered pieces of the mirror the world turns cold and silent. He is just a man getting old, alone and almost insane. His embrace is empity, and so is his heart and his eyes which can't cry anymore. And the magic is over. He fills the void in his life with death, responding his hunger of blood but he does not care wether he fails to fill or not. Killing became quite a normal thing to do, but he does not wonder if is murdering or revenging. There are also other things he doesn't ask himself anymore. But he should, before he misses something important. _Before it's too late._

The plan was perfect, but the boy screwed it all. Oh, how much you wanted to scream. But never wanted to kill him.  
Afterall...you didn't want to become the Bastard Turpin on your beloved daughter's love story, did you? But the second time it's perfect. Everyone dies without a sound, without spreading any doubt. Corpse after corpse you pull closer your revenge on judge Turpin. And then what? Will you fall between Mrs Lovett's arms without loving her? Or you will only focus on work and on your secret business? Will you hide it from Joenna feeding her with Mrs Lovett's meat pies and turn her into a cannibal until she finds out? Will you hug her and think she'll smile like her mother if you'll paint her crimson? These are the things you never had time to ask yourself: the so long waited death of the judge has provided you less relieve than memories and you are done when you burn the Liar's body. The awareness of what you did to your wife woke you up a bit, opened your eyes to a whole new thing you're experimenting right now: the desire and the want, the longing for revenge has made you completely numb towards the whole world, including yourself. You got your revenge for all the bad things happened to you, but you can't feel satisfaction from it, and it's not quite the thing you excpected. You are not happy.

Seriously, Barker. Do you really want to introduce yourself like that to your daughter?

If you will ever see Joenna, that's it. But you won't.  
And that's just fine with you.  
No, you don't even want her to look at you now.


End file.
